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- Mar 2, 2013
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Hi SDN comrades,
I am working on my secondary essays, and every time there is a question about "diversity of your experiences" or "what is one personal challenge you overcame" I am completely torn. I was sent to some very extreme programs as an adolescent and I am not sure whether to touch it at all. Here's what happened...
I struggled with depression and OCD ever since I was little, but when I was 14, it got bad. I didn't know how to cope with the OCD symptoms, and after trying everything from cutting to SSRIs, I began smoking pot.
It wasn't the pot so much as the social outlets it gave me access to. I was always a shy kid, and when I started smoking weed, I found I had an excuse to hang out with older "cool" kids. I felt like I had an identity. And, most of all, I didn't have panic attacks from certain sounds/sights/experiences that usually triggered me.
My parents were very against marijuana, and when they found a bong in my room, they called all my teachers (I was a freshman in high school) and told them...for no apparent reason. I rebelled. I started doing hallucinogens, rx pills, cough syrup, whatever. I just wanted to not be sober.
Eventually, after relapsing while in outpatient substance counseling, I was sent to a wilderness program in North Carolina. I had no idea what I was getting into. They stripped me naked, searched me, then handed me a bunch of scratchy orange clothes and told me to go to base camp. From that day until day 77, I woke up, hiked, set up camp, slept, packed up camp, and hiked again. No showers. The same food every day. No drugs. No electronics. No seeing cars, no contact with the outside world, no "future information" such as what time it was or where we were going. No knowing when we would get to leave. At first it was the most miserable thing I've ever experienced. It was so cold, we used to boil water to put in water bottles at the foot of our sleeping bags. In the morning, they would be ice. They took our shoes at night so we wouldn't run.
After I finished with the wilderness, I was sent to a therapeutic boarding school. They did some really intense, weird, bizarre, and frankly, psychologically abusive things there. the psychiatrist there was also known as the candy man, and he basically drugged everyone there with crazy **** they didn't need. I was put on antipsychotics, gained 25 lbs, and started sleeping in the middle of the day. It took me 3 months to get an appointment with him to discontinue it, and if I didn't take it every day, I would get put in suspension. TO THIS DAY, 5 years later, I wake up in cold sweats with my heart racing because I dream I'm there and no one believes I finished the program and I can't escape. It takes me half an hour or so to fully believe it was a dream. I'm not the only one with PTSD-like symptoms who went there. (We have a support group on FB and some of us are members of CAFETY-- community alliance for the ethical treatment of youth). oh, and the best part--no relationships whatsoever. no flirting with the opposite gender. no SITTING NEXT to the opposite gender without a pillow in between you. and no, this was not a religious institution, just a really ****ed up one.
this place is literally impossible to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it firsthand. the bottom line is, I went through a tremendous amount of internal and external struggles in high school, and it affected me for years after. I have my OCD/depression under control now. I'm in therapy and seeing a psychiatrist, and overall, things are great. I've grown up. Now I'm not sure how to frame this in a "diversity" essay. It's a huge part of who I am, but it's touchy as hell.
Sorry about the massive wall of text. If anyone made it through, do you have any thoughts?
I am working on my secondary essays, and every time there is a question about "diversity of your experiences" or "what is one personal challenge you overcame" I am completely torn. I was sent to some very extreme programs as an adolescent and I am not sure whether to touch it at all. Here's what happened...
I struggled with depression and OCD ever since I was little, but when I was 14, it got bad. I didn't know how to cope with the OCD symptoms, and after trying everything from cutting to SSRIs, I began smoking pot.
It wasn't the pot so much as the social outlets it gave me access to. I was always a shy kid, and when I started smoking weed, I found I had an excuse to hang out with older "cool" kids. I felt like I had an identity. And, most of all, I didn't have panic attacks from certain sounds/sights/experiences that usually triggered me.
My parents were very against marijuana, and when they found a bong in my room, they called all my teachers (I was a freshman in high school) and told them...for no apparent reason. I rebelled. I started doing hallucinogens, rx pills, cough syrup, whatever. I just wanted to not be sober.
Eventually, after relapsing while in outpatient substance counseling, I was sent to a wilderness program in North Carolina. I had no idea what I was getting into. They stripped me naked, searched me, then handed me a bunch of scratchy orange clothes and told me to go to base camp. From that day until day 77, I woke up, hiked, set up camp, slept, packed up camp, and hiked again. No showers. The same food every day. No drugs. No electronics. No seeing cars, no contact with the outside world, no "future information" such as what time it was or where we were going. No knowing when we would get to leave. At first it was the most miserable thing I've ever experienced. It was so cold, we used to boil water to put in water bottles at the foot of our sleeping bags. In the morning, they would be ice. They took our shoes at night so we wouldn't run.
After I finished with the wilderness, I was sent to a therapeutic boarding school. They did some really intense, weird, bizarre, and frankly, psychologically abusive things there. the psychiatrist there was also known as the candy man, and he basically drugged everyone there with crazy **** they didn't need. I was put on antipsychotics, gained 25 lbs, and started sleeping in the middle of the day. It took me 3 months to get an appointment with him to discontinue it, and if I didn't take it every day, I would get put in suspension. TO THIS DAY, 5 years later, I wake up in cold sweats with my heart racing because I dream I'm there and no one believes I finished the program and I can't escape. It takes me half an hour or so to fully believe it was a dream. I'm not the only one with PTSD-like symptoms who went there. (We have a support group on FB and some of us are members of CAFETY-- community alliance for the ethical treatment of youth). oh, and the best part--no relationships whatsoever. no flirting with the opposite gender. no SITTING NEXT to the opposite gender without a pillow in between you. and no, this was not a religious institution, just a really ****ed up one.
this place is literally impossible to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it firsthand. the bottom line is, I went through a tremendous amount of internal and external struggles in high school, and it affected me for years after. I have my OCD/depression under control now. I'm in therapy and seeing a psychiatrist, and overall, things are great. I've grown up. Now I'm not sure how to frame this in a "diversity" essay. It's a huge part of who I am, but it's touchy as hell.
Sorry about the massive wall of text. If anyone made it through, do you have any thoughts?
Glad to see you've gotten everything together! It's an interesting story for sure, but I don't know if I would mention it.....
